


what happens in the bathroom

by leighbot



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Asexual Character, Coming Out, Demisexuality, Meet-Cute, Platonic Relationships, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:50:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leighbot/pseuds/leighbot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn just needs to relieve himself before his lecture starts, but there's someone crying in the stall and he can't just leave them upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what happens in the bathroom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhoIsTab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoIsTab/gifts).



> This represents only the way these characters choose to identify and disclose that identity; this is not intended to represent anyone else's choice of when, how or who to come out to. This is a work of fiction.

Zayn’s already late to his lecture but Harry had plied him with glass after glass of water the night before when he thought Zayn needed to sober up and now he has to piss so badly that he ducks into the men’s room before class. One of the stalls is closed but he doesn’t pay it much mind, picking a urinal, dropping his school bag on the ledge, and unzipping his fly. He tries to speed things along but he’s full up, and it takes minute before he can shake and tuck himself back in, washing his hands right after.

He’s drying them on a bit of paper towel when he hears sniffles from the closed stall. Zayn pauses, holding his breath. Hears them again. He battles with himself for all of sixty seconds, though he knows he’s going to have to say something. He can’t leave a guy crying in the bathroom of the science center. Harry and his mum would never forgive him if they ever knew.

“Hello?” he calls out, gentling his voice. “You okay in there?”

No answer.

Zayn grabs his book bag and shuffles a little closer, hesitating before rapping his knuckles on the door lightly. “Is there anything I can do to help? I could call someone or get you something.”

“Go away.” The voice is a bit high, even with some added rasp undoubtedly from crying. It sounds Midwestern, even from just the two words, something in the way they’re almost forced together as if they’re one word: g’away. It’s not how people talk in Zayn’s home state.

“I mean, normally I would, but if my friend Harry ever found out I left someone crying in the stall of the men’s room in the science building he would probably kill me with his bare hands, and he’s a pacifist so that is saying something.” What might be the sound of a laugh hits Zayn’s ear.

“Not a chance that’d be Harry Styles, is there?” The voice sounds a bit smoother, Zayn notes, and he hasn’t heard a sniffle in about sixty seconds so he thinks he’s making progress.

Zayn laughs, resting his palm flat on the door. “The very same, actually. Harry knows everyone and is apparently easily recognized as being a pacifist. Now he really will kill me if I leave a friend of his upset and alone.”

“Who says I’m his friend?”

“Harry doesn’t make enemies.”

After a moment of silence, Zayn hears first the guy in the stall blowing his nose, then the shuffle of his feet. Zayn steps back, his arm dropping to his side as the door opens outward.

The boy standing in front of him is about Zayn’s height. His light brown hair looks like he’s been fiddling with it, messy in a way that suggests his fingers have been running through it, and his blue eyes look bright in contrast with the red from his crying. His cheeks and nose are bright pink and he uses a scrunched up wad of toilet paper to dab at his face. He’s smiling a little though, teeth white against his red and bitten-raw lips. “I’ve never had anyone threaten me with their own death. Figured I had to see who this mystery person is.”

Zayn smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Harry’s roommate, Zayn. I don’t think we’ve met before. Though, he has a lot of friends so I may have just forgotten, to be honest.”

“Nah, I think I’d remember you. I’m Louis Tomlinson; Harry joined my frat last year. I, ah- I’d really appreciate if you didn’t tell him about this. He’s kind of a worrier.”

“Oh, I definitely know that. He made me drink three glasses of water last night because I’d had a few PBRs with and after dinner.”

“That explains the excessive peeing.”

“Something has to,” Zayn agrees, snorting to hide his blush. He never thought the person crying in the stall would have heard him taking a piss, but something about Louis makes his statement seem almost conversational instead of strangely inappropriate.

“I don’t cry a lot,” Louis says, mouth now set in a line. He seems fiercely determined to make Zayn believe that.

“I get it but it wouldn’t matter to me if you did.” Zayn’s glad Louis seems calmer and is out of the stall; he’s already getting a bit of a headache from the smell of urine mixing with chemical cleaners and he’d like to get out into the fresh air soon.

Louis seems to be a talker, though. “I came out to my parents this morning,” he says unexpectedly. He never breaks eye contact with Zayn even as he continues, as if he’s daring Zayn to have a problem with that he’s saying. “I told them I’ve been active in the LGBT community here on campus since freshman year and that I’ve known since last fall that I identify as an asexual demiboy. They didn’t exactly respond as expected and I got emotional about it.”

“That’s-“ _a lot of information_ , Zayn wants to say. He isn’t sure what response is appropriate but he knows standing here silent will only make Louis feel uncomfortable and he desperately doesn’t want to see him upset. They’ve only just met, but Harry has pretty good taste in friends and Zayn feels a connection between him and Louis already. “I’m… not either of those things,” he settles with, feeling inadequate.

Louis smiles. “Most people aren’t. Even less common to be both, I’ve heard.”

This is the weirdest conversation Zayn has ever had, and he’s been rooming with Harry for over a year. He never thought anything would top the two hours he and Harry spent arguing over whether wildebeests or buffalo were the more ‘majestic’ creatures native to North America.

They’d settled on buffalo eventually, but it had been close for a while. Pot may have been involved.

“Anyway, they weren’t, like, disappointed in me or anything,” Louis’ saying, pulling Zayn from his thoughts. “They just were like, ‘Maybe you feel that way now, but it might change’. And that kind of sucks even more. So I came in here and had a bit of a pity party for one when you came in and interrupted. Rudely, by the way.”

Zayn grins, finally figuring out what to say. He takes a quick breath. “I came out last summer to my Muslim parents that I am bisexual and in a polyamorous relationship with a trans girl and a cis boy. I had to explain a couple of the terms we like to use but they understood most of the wording upfront.”

Hey, if they’re oversharing, then Zayn can play that game, too.

“How’d they react?” Louis asks, seemingly sincere.

Zayn shrugs, his leather jacket pulling tight across his shoulders. “Surprisingly well, actually. My baba- that’s my dad, sorry- didn’t really understand at first but he told me right away that he loved me no matter what. He asked a couple questions about the wording and what everything meant, but he loves Liam and Niall. And my mom was worried at first, because she doesn’t want me to have a rough time of it in college like I did in high school for being the Muslim kid. But she is impressed with Niall’s ability to eat her own weight in my mom’s home cooking, so she won her over. All worked out there.”

Louis frowns, looking down at the floor. Zayn feels a bit guilty for no real reason; he knows Niall’s own coming out with her mom in Ireland didn’t go over nearly as easily, and had leaned almost fully on her da for support. It’s probably the main reason she found a school overseas to attend. She needed space from the person who had failed to show their unconditional love when it was most needed. Zayn knows they talk, now, but the conversations always end with Niall’s brow furrowed and shoulders tight with tension that only Liam can work out.

Zayn makes a decision. Something in him needs to keep the sad look off of Louis’ face, so he snaps his fingers and shifts his bag on his shoulder. “Hey listen, I’m already late for my lecture and my professor will dock me more points for disrupting than he will for missing it entirely: do you want to grab some lunch? Talk about some things? I can call Harry, if you like. Or Liam or Niall, they’re great with talking about things like this. I’m a bit bad at it.” The smile that crosses Louis’ face is small but pretty, and Zayn grins back. “Do you like noodles?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Great. I know a place.”

~*~

They hop on a bus for a few stops and then walk to the Noodles & Co on Grand River, Zayn asking Louis a few pointed questions. He learns Louis prefers they or them over male pronouns, though won’t usually correct people if they slip up. Louis also has a squadron of little siblings, and they bond over being big brothers for the time it takes to get to the restaurant.

“You’re originally from California; how’d you end up in Michigan?” Louis asks, pressing their back to the door and pushing it open. “And how do you like the snow?”

Zayn laughs. “I was from northern California, first of all,” he corrects them. “It snows there plenty and we have ski resorts and everything. I’m actually here because they offered me an arts scholarship for their English program and my mom went here, so it made sense. It’s cheaper because she’s an alumnus. What about you?”

“Oh, I live about forty minutes away. My family’s very into the school’s sports teams; we bleed green. I’m on a partial scholarship for their soccer program, but I probably would have ended up here anyway even if I had to take out enough in student loans so that I’d never be able to pay them back.”

Zayn rolls his eyes, used to the buzz and hype the athletic teams inspire. He’ll go to the football games with Liam and Niall, sitting in between them on tiny bleachers and enjoying the atmosphere even on the coldest days, but he still maintains his right to pretend to be Above It All whenever he feels.

“I’ll have the peanut sauté,” he orders when they get to the register. He cashes out, grabs his soda cup and moves to let Louis order the Bangkok curry behind him. There’s a scent in the air and he groans to himself. “Get some potstickers, I totally forgot,” he calls out from the soda machine. Louis laughs but then they oblige, ordering the plate of six.

They grab a table in the corner while they wait for their food.

“What are you going to do about your parents?”

“I don’t know,” Louis admits. “I know they didn’t mean anything by it. Like yours, they’ve maybe never even heard some of the words I used and I probably should have done it in person but I didn’t want to wait until Christmas.”

“Yeah, maybe you could have told them face-to-face,” Zayn allows.

“I’ve just been holding things in for so long that I didn’t know how to say it,” they say, leaning back in their chair. “I worked up the nerve this morning and called mom while she was making breakfast for the girls and I just… told her everything. Halfway through, she conferenced in my dad- that took a few minutes to work out- and they listened to me but didn’t speak for a bit. I had to check that the call didn’t drop twice.”

Louis’ eyes and cheeks are bright, passion clear on their face, and Zayn can see why Harry is their friend. Hell, he thinks he and Louis are going to be friends, too.

“I can’t imagine saying that stuff on the phone. It’s scary, putting out something into the world and waiting for the reaction. When you say it in person, the reaction is immediately seen. It is its own kind of scary, I guess.”

Louis sighs, frustrated. “It’s just got to be so much easier to say, ‘Mom, I’m gay’ than it is to try and explain all the different nuances. Maybe I should have started with that first. Worked up to the truth.”

Zayn sucks some of his iced tea through his straw, thinking his next words over. “I think a lot of people tend to come out as gay first, not because they are, but because society makes it seem like boys who don’t fit into the norm are automatically gay. And, once we learn the words for what defines us better, we use those. I thought I was gay for a bit, and then I got confused when I hooked up with a girl my freshman year. I thought maybe it was just a one-off, but I realized that the term ‘gay’ didn’t fit me. I joined some LGBT focused blogs and learned about all the other terms that don’t get as much attention.”

Louis is nodding their head passionately through Zayn’s impromptu speech. He’s interrupted from continuing his thought by their food coming, smiling up at the server and echoing Louis’ mutter of thanks. They both dig in right away, the conversation on pause as they slurp their noodles.

“When did you decide you were poly?” Louis eventually asks, setting his fork down for a long drink from his water cup.

Zayn grins, cheeky. “When I had a threesome last year that turned into an actual relationship.”

“That’s one way.”

Zayn adds, a bit more seriously, “I don’t really know how it came about. I’m shit with actual conversations that matter, so we didn’t talk about it for a long time.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem talking to me,” Louis says.

“This is out of the norm for me,” Zayn admits with a shrug.

“You stepped in because I was in need.”

Zayn slurps up some noodles, rolling his eyes. “Yeah? ’M I your guardian angel?” he teases, picking a large piece of cilantro out and putting it to the side next to the discarded slice of lime. He stabs a sprout with the tines of his fork.

Louis laughs, their eyes shining. “How did it actually happen though? You and your S.O.’s?”

“S.O.’s?” Zayn repeats. “Oh, significant others?” They nod. “I’m serious: I don’t know. We were friends for a bit, Niall and I, and then Liam moved out of his dorm because of roommate issues and down the hall from me. Niall and I both liked him and- one night after a lot of alcohol- we all hooked up. And then we just… kept hooking up until I asked them if they wanted to come visit me on summer break.”

“That’s a big step,” they comment, swirling their rice noodles around their fork. “Without talking about it first?”

Zayn laughs. “Yeah, just kind of sprang it on them. Niall asked me if I was nuts, Liam panicked about what he would wear, and I just told them I loved them.”

Louis laughs so hard they almost choke on a bite of sesame seeds. “I cannot believe these are real people; the three of you are probably a lot to handle.”

“When you meet Liam and Niall, you’ll see. The three of us just work, we always have. I don’t think it would have worked with anyone else.”

“So, why don’t you use the term pansexual then?”

Zayn would bristle at the question from a different person, but his brief experience with Louis has been full of so many questions back-and-forth that Zayn doesn’t take offense. “I don’t mind the term; it’s accurate, I suppose. Niall’s mentioned in the past that she doesn’t care for her relationships using ‘pansexual’; she feels that it implies she isn’t a real girl. She likes that bi means two.”

“A lot of people are nonbinary,” Louis says, their expression tight.

“We know, of course we know that,” Zayn assures them, trying to smile gently. “I didn’t tell you that to be rude.”

“I know.”

“It’s good that we have so many different terms; it means everyone can find the one that works best for them. And me using bisexual makes my girl feel more comfortable. You’ll like her, everyone loves Niall.”

“She another Harry then?”

Zayn grins. “She’s better, of course.”

Louis scraps the bottom of their bowl, wiping their mouth afterwards. “I think you might be a bit biased.”

Zayn doesn’t disagree.

~*~

They pile their plates in the middle of the table, eating their pot stickers with their hands and munching in mostly silence. Louis wipes their hands on a napkin before checking their phone. “My next class starts soon; I have to head out to catch my bus.”

“Yeah, I should go catch up with someone leaving my class,” Zayn allows. “See if I can borrow their notes or something.”

“I’m a bad influence on you already, I like that.”

Zayn laughs. They stand, Zayn still with a bit of food in his hand. He shoulders his book bag again, grabbing for his cap snapped to the strap. He pushes it on with one hand as they walk outside and down to the bus stop.

“It’s weird,” Louis says out of the blue. Zayn hums to indicate he’s listening. “I feel a bit calmer now that my parents know. I’ve been carrying it for so long, always feeling anxious when they’d ask me how I was doing. I’ve wanted to tell them for so long that I worked it up in my head as something terrible.”

“It’s easy to do that,” Zayn concedes, finishing his last bite and licking his fingers. “You hear enough stories about parents who react poorly; it’s completely normal to stress about it.”

They glance at the bus schedule before taking a seat on the bench. Zayn holds out his hand.

“Here, give me your cell. I’ll put my number in. You can call anytime you like if you want to talk; I’ll even pass the phone over to Liam if you like, he’s a good listener.”

Louis hands over their phone easily, and Zayn’s just hit ‘save’ when it buzzes in his hand with an incoming call. A picture of a pretty brunette woman with Louis’ smile flashes on the screen, the word ‘Mommy’ in white block letters on the top.

Louis snatches the phone, face pale as they answer. “Hi, mom.”

Zayn looks up as his bus comes to a stop at the curb, waving it away. He wants to stay with Louis just in case he is needed.

“I- mom, no of course. I didn’t think that. I- mom, stop. No, mom, don’t cry.”

Zayn looks over at them in alarm, relieved to find Louis smiling softly. Tears are forming in their eyes already, and they wipe at their cheeks distractedly.

“I love you, too, mommy. I’m okay, I promise. I- yes, you can come up this weekend, of course. I want to see you, too. I’m sorry for just springing it on you.”

Zayn can hear a voice through the phone, though not enough to recognize the words.

“It’s okay, I know you have to get to work. I’ve got class, anyway. I love you too, I’ll talk to you later.”

Louis hangs up after another moment, smiling wide and wiping at more tears. “That was my mom,” they say unnecessarily.

“Sounds like a good conversation,” Zayn hedges.

“Yeah, she told me she was sorry she reacted like that earlier. Said she didn’t really mean it when she called it a phase, doesn’t know why she even said that. My dad told her off for that, said he didn’t want me thinking they weren’t okay. I think mom didn’t even realize how she’d reacted, she was kind of shocked. She was just crying because she thought I was upset.”

Zayn kindly doesn’t point out that Louis was upset there, for a bit. Louis smirks at him anyway as if they know and recognize the joke.

“Not anymore, at least,” Louis says. A bus pulls up. “This ones me. I- thanks, Zayn. I needed someone to talk to today.”

“Anytime.”

Louis gets up and waits for a few people getting off. They turn around at the last second. “The frat’s having a party on Saturday. You should bring Liam and Niall. I’d like to meet them.”

“I’m sure they’ll want to meet you, too, once I tell them about today. It is okay that I tell them, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees. They step up before the driver can get impatient. “It was nice meeting you.”

“You too,” Zayn says before Louis climbs the rest of the way up and the bus starts to pull away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
